


A World Without Cheeseburgers

by EvilEkat



Category: Rick and Morty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilEkat/pseuds/EvilEkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick’s refusal to treat his strep throat leaves Morty dealing with it instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World Without Cheeseburgers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bad, pointless idea that goes nowhere made to humour myself. It’s more of a drabble, that for some reason grew longer than a drabble should have. I got the idea after writing a test on bacteria. The final question was a short essay on why bacteria was vital to the planet, and while writing it, this story started to form in my head. This is also a little practice story for another Rick and Morty idea I have. I’ve been practicing writing their characters, but I want to have them down before I start on the next idea.
> 
> Methanogens are a type of extremophile that live in low-oxygen environments. (Like a cow’s stomach.) They produce methane, and can help with digestion of food.
> 
> And, just for the record, I have nothing against vegans.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Rick and Morty.

Morty was used to the garage being a mess. There were permanent stains in the walls, and Rick's stuff covered every surface of the place. The ceiling was uneven, due to how many times it had been destroyed. Water dripped through unsealed cracks in the shingles now, it was raining heavily outside. Morty carefully twisted his way around the kitchen toaster (Which he could have sworn was doing something funny that morning) and dodged the new sentient coat rack.

Normally, there was at least some floor space to work with. But now, he could just barely move without brushing against things that he probably shouldn't be touching. He really didn't want to set anything off, but the tissue-free path in the garage was thin. He was in his bare feet, and some of the tissues were still soggy. He had already gotten too far into this mistake, he was not going to leave and come back with shoes. Rick was naturally the furthest away he could possibly be. He was kicking tissues out of the way as he walked, making new paths and mumbling to himself.

"Hey uh, Rick?"

Morty had to jump from one clear spot to the next, landing on one foot and carefully putting down the other on top of it. He was in a cramped space, but Rick was gradually making the space wider as he pushed kicked the tissues.

"M-Morty! There you are! What took you so-" Rick's voice vanished. He coughed, rubbing his throat, and then continued. "I called you like, like ten minutes ago!"

"There's tissues everywhere Rick! What the heck is going on?"

"I'm sick you-"

Rick coughed again. He spat on the floor, naturally right in front of the path he had been taking. Morty stepped over the phlegm, making his was closer to Rick.

"Sick? Is it serious? Do we need to get you to a hospital?!"

"Calm down. It's just a little-"

There was a tissue box tucked under his arm. Rick pulled one out now, and blew his nose. He tossed it right in front of the place where Morty stood. Morty squeaked, and dodged out of the way. For a terrifying moment, he lost balance. His arms went wind-milling, and he felt the used tissues brush against his feet. Rick already had nothing to loose, and walked through the tissues. He caught was caught by the shirt, and set upright again.

"-b-bacterial infection Morty. Just some streptococcus. It'll all be-"

Rick sneezed all over his front.

"Rick! This is my favourite shirt!"

"You might wanna'... Wanna' burn that."

Morty pulled it off, and tossed it with the tissues. It was cold, being half-dressed in the garage. He tucked his hands under his arm pits. The pattering of the rain on the roof grew louder in their silence. Rick sneezed again. Suddenly, he was the one loosing his balance. He dropped the tissue box, and bent over, clutching his knees.

There was a greyish parlour to his skin, and his hair looked more greasy than usual. Morty knew that Rick was old, but he had never really seemed this fragile before. He looked like he could break a hip, or worse. There were beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Rick's breathing wasn't sounding healthy either, he was wheezing for air.

"Gee, you don't look so good."

"Of course I don't look good you..." More coughing interrupted his insults. "-I'm old and sick."

"Is it fatal?"

"I'm fine. I can just walk it off with a couple a'-" Rick was starting to wobble on the spot. "Alcohol Morty, it sterilizes everything..."

"I think we should go to the walk-in clinic." Morty felt his forehead. "You're burning up! You're on fire!"

"Didn't I... Didn't I-?" Rick twisted around, trying to look at his lab coat. "Turn off that blow torch?"

"No! You've got a really high temperature!"

"M-Morty, I-"

Leaning against him, Rick started to mutter something to himself. Rick was a lot heavier than he had originally thought, and Morty was struggling to keep standing. Rick continued to slip, and Morty nervously tried to avoid stepping on the tissues. But the man was slowly pushing him back with all his weight.

"Keep it together Rick. Don't make me walk on these tissues!"

"-adventure Morty... We've gotta' go on an..."

"Rick you need a doctor."

"I'm fine Morty. Look. So long as I keep a few tissues shoved up my nose like a walrus, it's all good."

Morty watched in disgust as Rick did exactly that. Couldn't he have done that before, instead of spreading tissues all over the floor?

"You're a mess."

"It's just a little strep throat Morty. See?" Rick tapped underneath his chin. "Swollen neck glands. It's all good. I don't need to see one of those stuffed shirts. We'll all just walk this off and go check out that..."

"I think mom keeps some penicillin."

"M-Morty you idiot, you need the right strength from a pharmacist to get rid of..."

Morty grabbed Rick by the underarms, and reached for the garage door opener. He took the easy way out, dragging him out of the garage and into the rain. It was freezing outside, and they were soaked to the bone instantly. Not that it really mattered, seeing as Rick had ruined his favourite yellow shirt by sneezing on it. The ten seconds it took to get Rick to the front door had the man shivering. His teeth were chattering, and he barely seemed capable of keeping conscious.

Morty lead Rick through the house, and left him on the couch. He got a new shirt first, and changed out of his wet pants. Then he grabbed the blanket from his bed, and covered Rick with it. He didn't even appear to be aware of what was going on anymore, and had accepted that he was laying down now. Morty grabbed the (Not so well-hidden) bottle of pills and returned to Rick. Apparently he had underestimated Rick's determination to move. He was half-off the couch now, struggling and swearing as he attempted to reach the TV remote on the floor. Morty helped Rick back on to the couch. Then, crouching next to Rick, he handed him the bottle of pills.

"It says you should take-"

"This is antibiotics Morty- There's n-not enough for a- for a full course." He replied, handing him back the bottle. "Y-you're supposed to take it all so the bacteria don't go into endo... Endospore formation..."

"We've got to try something!

"It'll be fine Morty." Rick tried to sit up again. "This immune system's s-survived worse."

Morty found another blanket, and put it on top of Rick. He tucked Ricks arms under the blankets, and switched on the TV for him. The additional weight seemed like enough to keep him from moving this time around. He was too weak to get very far on his own. But knowing Rick, he would still try to find a way. Maybe he should find another blanket, or some weights.

"I think I should call Mom."

"She's probably busy with whatever. Jus'... Gimme' the remote Morty."

"Not unless you agree to do something about being sick."

"I-I am. I'm trying to watch TV."

"Rick! This could be serious! You're old! Old people don't handle being sick that well!"

"What did you learn that in school?"

Morty rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well yeah I actually kind of did-"

"What school didn't tell you was that antibiotics are a conspiracy Morty. A, a vegan conspiracy! And the more you take, the more you're helping the vegans!"

"That doesn't really sound so evil."

"They're vegans Morty, they don't eat anything that casts a shadow."

"Rick, I don't think that's what vegans are-"

"It's a conspiracy Morty! They want to destroy life as we know it Morty! There'd be corpses littering the streets if they succeeded. And no more... No more grass. And... We need that bacteria Morty, but they're trying to kill it all with antibiotics! But they can't make me take them Morty. I'll fight them before I..."

Morty left the room so he could find a thermometer. There was a package of disposable ones in the upstairs bathroom, so he grabbed those. Luckily, Rick was still in the same spot this time. He was squinting (Or perhaps he was trying to glare?) in Morty's general direction. It was not very intimidating when he had the covers tucked up to his chin and two tissues stuck up his nose. He fumbled slightly trying to open the packaging, and thermometers spilled everywhere. Morty picked one up and rubbed it off.

"Alright, open up."

"What? You just dropped that on the floor! Do you know what happens on this carpet?"

"No, and I don't want to. Now, say AHH!"

"Go fuck-"

The thermometer was stuck in his mouth while he was talking. Morty held it until the thermometer beeped.

"One oh one." Morty announced.

"Well I could've told you that." Rick said, spitting out the thermometer.

"We need to keep track of your temperature to make sure you're not dying. And... That's pretty high. No wonder why you're delirious."

"I'm always delirious." He brushed off. "Now give me the remote. I wanna' see what's on. Actually on second thought, I'm hungry. No wait that was just my left kidney. Got it replaced after I sold the old one for a cheeseburger."

It was hard to tell if Rick was telling the truth or if he was starting to slip into fever dreams. His eyes were half-closed, and he looked helpless laying there on the couch.

"-cows Morty. There are methanogens in cows. Without the enzymes they create, cows can't digest their food, and so the cows starve without bacteria. We can't eat them Morty. It's just what the vegans want. They wanna' save those shadow-casting bastards."

"Er, maybe you should be taking a nap. Until this wears off."

"N-nap?" Rick started to cough again. "The vegans are trying to end cheeseburgers as we know it Morty! They're gonna' kill all the bacteria involved in making cheese products. I mean, in hindsight, that seems a little weird because the cows will already be dying. But they're gonna' kill them Morty. And... We've gotta' go on an adventure to stop them Morty. Bring me my portal gun and we can... We'll stop 'em Morty. We'll save the cheeseburgers!"

Morty stuck another thermometer in Rick's mouth, just to get him to stop talking. He was still mumbling something, but with a mouth full of thermometer, he was not getting very far.

"Rick, you're staring to sound more crazy." The thermometer beeped. "And you're at one oh two now."

Spitting out the thermometer, he replied;

"Eh, I'll sleep it off."

Morty grabbed the thermometer and bottle of pills, he put them back in their respective places, and returned. Rick had turned on his side and was loudly snoring. Of course it wasn't possible for _him_ to make Rick sleep. But as soon as Rick decided he wanted to, he was out like a light.

A new tissue box was placed by Rick's head, and he pulled off his shoes. Morty had to wince, Rick's feet smelled terrible. He turned off the living room lights, cloaking the room in darkness. Outside, the rain continued to quietly tap against the window. Morty sat on the floor, with his back against the couch. Morty took the remote and turned on the TV. Rick instantly awoke, and mumbled into the couch cushion;

"The remote Morty... The, the..."

With a sigh, he handed it to Rick. The instant Rick found a suitable channel, he fell straight back to sleep.

"Stubborn jerk."

_**Fin** _


End file.
